Stayin' alive
by purplefairylightx
Summary: When she woke up with a blank space where her memories should be, Indira knew she was utterly, royally screwed. The fact that the only people who could keep her company were a bunch of unknown boys did not make her feel better.
1. Chapter 1

**1\. Look, a new one**

When the alarm sounded, it caught me by surprise. I looked up from the weeds I was holding, and my perplexed expression must have amused Zart, because the bored look that had found its resting place on his face lifted.

"You alright there, Greenie?" He seemed genuinely amused, and I scowled. Even after living in the Glade for weeks, something always seemed to throw me off. The fact that I was still being called 'Greenie' pricked, especially since they knew my name was Indira.

"Do we have supplies coming up today?" I straightened and threw the plucked weeds away into a pile.

"Naw." He squinted at the Box, and I watched Alby's stocky figure stride across the Glade with Newt in tow. Nick was already there, his hands on his hips.

"Well?" I glanced back at Zart questioningly and he sighed. "We're getting a new shank."

That's when it hit me. The Glade was getting a new member. Suddenly, my heart was in my throat from anticipation. A solid month had passed with me as the only girl, and it was starting to get a little tiring. If it wasn't the attention, then it was the jokes. Sometimes, someone would yell at me to 'get back in the kitchen' when I was in the Gardens, and I'd end up having to fling mud on their faces.

Zart's voice jolted me back to the present. "Why don't you go over and greet the next Greenie? If it's a girl, she's probably going to appreciate someone of her species."

I threw him a smile, and brushed my hands on my jeans. Zart bent down to pluck a weed, the bored expression finding its way back onto his face. He was uninterested about everything except plants, and his quiet demeanor was fine with me, since I didn't usually feel like chatting around anyway.

I reached the crowd around the box, and chose to stand towards the side, trying to look through the gladers. Newt, Nick and Alby were at the front, and Newt's eyes caught mine. He beckoned to come closer, so I pushed past the boys towards him.

"You stay here, see if it's a girl." His eyes were serious, but it didn't stop me from breaking into a smile anyway.

"That's what Zart said."

He looked down at me again- he was a little more than six feet- and a grim smile twisted his lips. "Don't be so hopeful shank; the Creators like to throw surprises every now and then. I'm guessin' you were one of them. It's probably back to the old routine now."

"Gee, thanks," I said dryly. It was no secret that I longed for a female best friend, and I tried not to let my hope deflate.

Newt was looking intently at the box hole, and I heard it rumble. When the box itself stopped moving, whimpers were audible. Whimpers that definitely weren't a girl's.

"Oh, shuck," I groaned.

Gally leapt into the box, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Then there were sounds of feet shuffling, and someone yelling.

"That shucking shank!" Gally pulled himself back up, cursing, and a splash of red on his arm caught my eye. "I'm gonna kill him! He nicked me with a knife!"

"Stop getting your buggin' panties in a twist, Gally, it's a scratch!" Newt boomed behind me.

The commotion went on, but the gears were spinning in my head. I could still recall how terrified I was when I had seen the boys for the first time; the confusion and fear had melted my train of thought. Suddenly struck by empathy, I started to lower myself into the Box, when a hand on my shoulder pulled me back.

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him to the chase.

"Look, I've seen plants more empathetic than Gally. This kid needs help, alright? Yelling will not get him out of there."

There was a silent staring match for a few seconds, before I turned around and jumped in.

When my feet hit the floor, there was a gasp. I could hear loud breathing, punctuated by soft sobs coming from… a boy who looked around twelve. He had a curly mop of hair, and his cheeks were streaked with tears. The innocence on his face startled me, and sent a surge of anger directed at the Creators. I couldn't believe they were willing to risk the life of someone so young.

I took a step towards the kid, then regretted it immediately.

The boy suddenly pushed himself forward, brandishing a knife he had probably discovered in the Box. He was walking wobbly, waving his weapon blindly.

"Woah!" I jumped out of the way, my heartbeat racing. Clearly, he was too emotional to think straight, so I had to act fast. "Look, I'm not trying to hurt you, okay? I'm trying to help. Put the knife down, please."

He paused, eyes glinting with tears, and I took my chance. "Listen to me. I know how you're feeling like right now, okay? I've been in this situation too. Please put the knife down, and I'll help you out."

For a few seconds that stretched out to eternity, both of us were frozen. I didn't make any sudden movements or reach out to him; Gally had clearly failed in that front. Maintaining eye contact, I let out a breath of relief when he finally dropped the knife, and shuffled closer to me.

I climbed out of the box first. Ignoring the questions being flung at me, I turned around and helped the kid out. There was a pregnant pause in the air when the gladers got their first glimpse of him; he was, quite clearly, the youngest member of the Glade.

"Welcome, shank!" Nick's voice cut through the atmosphere, and he clapped the kid on his back. Except for Gally, everyone roared their greetings, and I watched the kid stare, looking bewildered. Before he got mobbed, I grabbed his hand and whispered. "Welcome to the Glade, buddy."


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. I thought you were dead**

I found myself awake and squinting at the roof of the homestead. Even the nights in the Glade weren't quiet; the boys could snore. Loudly. Usually, I'd be so tired that I couldn't have cared less, but tonight, my thoughts were scattered all over the place.

I lifted my hands to my face and examined them. They were tanned, and my palms were a little rough. My nails were chewed down on my right hand, but fine on the left one.

More than ever, the question of who I was bothered me. The fact that I couldn't recall anything just served to irritate me, more and more each day. I knew I was Asian- probably Indian, if my name was to be trusted. I had black hair till my shoulders that I tied up in a ponytail. And my usual attire was jogging pants and a t-shirt, and sometimes a pair of spare jeans I had found earlier. My feet were clad in running shoes, even though I couldn't run.

Well, I _could_ run. I just wasn't very good at it. I had discovered early into my days at the Glade that although I had a high stamina, speed was something I lacked in. It made me a laughing stock on my first day when I had sprinted away like what I thought was a bat out of hell, but got pegged by Minho in ten seconds.

"Greenie," Minho had said through short breaths. He wasn't breathing fast because he was tired. No no, it was because he was laughing so hard that there were literal tears streaming down his face. "You got the spirit, but not the speed, do ya hear me?"

I heard him, alright. Loud and clear. I heard it each time he called me Bolt, or Speedy, or Zoom, or something equally stupid. Lately though, he had been sticking to Bolt.

Nick groaned in his sleep. He was on a cot, while I was sleeping on the ground. We took turns, but I usually insisted he take the cot. It was my way of expressing my gratitude. He had made my life in the Glade easier with his generosity and concern. I just hoped he knew it.

Unable to bear the thoughts in my head anymore, I stood up. Walking quietly to the door, my hand was on the knob when he stirred awake.

"Where are you going?" His words were jumbled as he tired to blink away remnants of slumber.

"I just need some air. I'll be back soon. Go back to sleep."

His hair was sticking up in every direction as he sat up and I had to stifle a giggle. He considered my words for a minute before nodding and lying down again. I suppressed my smile and walked downstairs, trying to be careful not to wake anyone else.

There were three rooms each on the first and second floors. The ground floor was used as the kitchen. Each room had around three boys, usually lying on cots, hammocks or a spot on the ground with a mattress. The others slept in sleeping bags in the gardens.

In my room, though, it was just me and Nick. And it was a safe space.

I sat on the grass outside the Homestead and wrapped my arms around my knees. Everything was wrong. I didn't belong here.

I closed my eyes, trying to picture something, anything. I searched my mind for a family, or a childhood friend, or the smell of a warm meal.

Nothing.

I was in a universe where the lines between fiction and reality blurred together like some kind of nightmare. Like I could wake up everyday, and carry on in meaningless existence. Like I could go to sleep knowing that I'd never feel a mother's arms, or the thrill of loving someone so much it hurts.

I gripped the grass, trying to convince myself that something was still real, still true. A sharp hiss emerged from somewhere on my right and I saw it; the beetle blade. It didn't move, or flinch, but just stayed there.

Even the bugs in this place were metallic. Artificial. Manufactured. They were spies. Nothing was real. I was in a world where everything was fabricated. Where gigantic four walls closed everything except for the moans of Grievers. Where things stolen were never returned. Where I was the only female.

My heart hammered in my chest to the point where it was almost painful. Nausea flooded through me, acute and frightening. My palms were slick with sweat, and it wouldn't come off, no matter how much I wiped them clean. Even breathing was suddenly a chore, and there was a buildup in my chest. Emotions I had held for a long time, but now threatened to spill.

I ran.

I didn't stop till I reached the Deadheads. There were a few graves, with wilted flowers on them, and it made me want to throw up. I steered my course to the lake, and collapsed by its edge, breathing like I had just run a marathon.

I closed my eyes, knowing I wasn't going to get up, unable to care enough. This time, sheer exhaustion swept through me and suddenly, I was trapped in darkness.

**_6 hours later_**

Someone was talking.

Loudly.

Irritated and stuck in a limbo between sleep and waking up, I tried to use my pillow to hit them.

But where my hand was supposed to meet cloth, it met a rock.

The events of the previous night flooded my memory and I shot up to my feet, adrenaline pulsing hard through my blood.

"Shuck!" Newt's startled eyes met mine for a split second before he stumbled into the water. "Gah!"

"I'm sorry!" I yelled, trying to come back to my senses. Newt staggered for a minute, before he slipped and fell into the lake completely.

"Newt, I'm sorry!" I waded into the lake and pulled him up by him arms onto the shore. He sputtered and spit water out for a couple of minutes before he had the energy to get back on his feet and look cross.

Well, he wasn't cross. He was _furious_.

"You shucking scared me! You scared the shuck out of me! I see you face down, have a bloody _heart attack_ because I think you're dead, and then ah! You wake up like a bloody robot and scare the shit out of me, and then drown me!"

"Oh my god, I wasn't trying to drown you, I swear! I was trying to _help_ you slinthead! Don't you _dare_ give me that look, I can't believe you'd actually accuse me of murder, you little son of a-"

"Shut up! Shut up! Why did you leave Homestead? What made you think it was a good idea to take a nap here? Everyone's out looking for you!"

"A _nap_? You think I was taking a nap? I had a panic attack Newt! Damn you! Damn you and every other person on this godforsaken prison in the middle of a-"

"ENOUGH!"

Newt and I stopped squabbling, and turned to face whoever had just yelled.

"What?!" Newt screamed at Nick.

"Don't yell at him!" I screamed back.

"What is the matter with you?!"

Nick stomped over and grabbed my arm. "I said ENOUGH. Both of you, back to Homestead. Now!"

**HA, ngl, I'm a little apprehensive now. **


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. Your existence is appreciated**

"I'm sorry, Indira."

Nick and I were sitting on the grass in front of the gates, watching the skies turn darker. We had a half hour left before the walls closed, and Minho and the runners would be back any second.

The breeze that swept through the glade ruffled Nick's hair, and he looked at me apprehensively. Once I was done with work for the day, he walked me to our current spot, and apologized out of the blue.

I raised my eyebrows. "What for?"

Bashfully, he lowered his head. "I didn't mean to be so angry the other day. With you and Newt, I mean."

Snorting, I said, "Seriously? Nick, I'm sorry. I never wanted to scare you. I don't know what came over me, I just… snapped. And it kills me to think I might have worried you."

"Right." His gaze moved back to the gate, but I caught a smile spreading across his face. "It was pretty funny though."

"What was?"

"Watching you and Newt try to kill each other. I can't forget it- both dripping wet, his face so red it could have passed as one of Zart's tomatoes, and you yelling at him."

"Shut up." My laugh was a lot louder than I meant it to be, so I ended up slapping my hand across my mouth.

After Nick had found Newt and me near the lake, he took us to Homestead for an impromptu Gathering that involved only a few of the Keepers, plus Nick's second-in-command, Alby. I had to explain why I left my room in the middle of the night, and it wasn't easy. It was a mad balance between narrating my ordeal while trying to sound sane. Fortunately, most of the people there could relate, and I was let off the hook. I did have to formally apologize to Newt, who accepted it before making a beeline to the showers.

In a way, I was thankful that Newt had found me first. The leering glances I got from some of the boys at times made me want to crawl out of my skin, and being alone with one of them was not an option I was willing to consider. Newt, no matter how serious or funny, maintained a respectable distance always.

But Nick didn't talk to me the rest of the day. It was unsettling, and my thick head had taken a while to understand that he had been scared out of his wits for me.

"It was really impressive, the way you handled Chuck. You're incredibly resourceful, you know that?"

Inhaling deeply, and trying not to blush at the compliment, I cleared my throat. "He was frightened. And I know how it feels to be cornered. I honestly thought the newbie would be another boy. But Chuck isn't just that. He's like the baby here."

"You're telling me. I think Frypan's got a soft spot for him. I saw him gave that little shank an extra slice of bacon for breakfast. At this rate, Chuck's only going to get chubbier than he already is."

"Okay, that was mean." I shoved Nick's shoulder and he laughed loudly.

"Pull yourself together man." I wanted to look serious, but my own bout of giggles wasn't really helping. When we finally calmed down, a wave of compassion came over me. In a moment of bravery, I slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, testing the waters. When he tensed, I did too. Suddenly afraid that my gesture was too close for comfort, I started to pull away.

"No." He grabbed my hand lightly, and nodded in consent. Relieved, I wrapped my arm again a little more tightly, and rested my forehead on his shoulder. "Thank you Nick. For everything."

"Shucks, it was nothing." He didn't move, but rubbed my hand.

"It was everything to me. I'm so grateful you're here." I could feel myself blush at my admission, but I needed to say it. He had to know just how thankful I was.

"Aww Indy, you're breaking my heart."

"Indy?"

"Yeah, all shanks deserve a nickname."

"You couldn't pick something that didn't sound like a music genre?"

"Hey, some of us here don't have the privilege of having a name that can be shortened, okay? Imagine calling me ick or something."

"Pass." I straightened up, and tried to ignore the stares I knew were on me from the other gladers.

"It works with Minho though. Speak of the devil, he's here."

Sure enough, Minho and Ben were darting towards us, but I held my breath till they finally set their feet in the Glade. I knew about the dangers they faced everyday in the Maze, so their friendly faces along with the other Runners was a relief at dinner times.

"Hey, Ho!" Nick smirked at me before yelling at Minho and I died at the moniker he used for the Keeper of the Runners. "You had Min, but you decided to go with Ho?"

"Who's gonna stop me?"

Minho ran at full speed, tackling Nick to the ground. "Dude, you can't name call me in front of the ladies!"

"If I don't do it, everyone else will, Ho!"

"Min, get off him, seriously." I yanked Minho by his collar up, and he pretended to be hurt. "I just risked my life for you, Indira, and this is how you treat me?"

"Happy to see you're alive Min. I know Nick feels the same way." Behind Minho, Nick stuck his tongue out.

"Finally!" Minho threw his hands up. "Someone who appreciates what I do!"

"Oi Minho!" Newt walked over and clapped his friend's shoulder. "Bet ya didn't know that Indira treats everyone better than she treats me."

"For the record, no one else has ever accused me of drowning them, Newt."

"It's the bloody truth, ain't it?" He shot a cheeky smile, and I rolled my eyes. "Time for dinner, shanks."

"Hey guys!" Chuck's squeal directed our attention towards the Kitchens. "Frypan said he'll give me an extra cookie for dessert!"

"Seriously?" Minho huffs."I bust my ass running everyday and all Fry does is give me the stink eye when I try to swipe an extra pancake, piece of klunk that he is."

"Lighten up, Chuck's adorable. Get over here buddy!" I held my arms out, and Chuck ran into them in delight.

"Chuck's out here scoring points with the ladies." Minho slapped the back of Nick's head. "He might give you some pointers, shank."

"Shut up, Ho."

I tried to ignore what Minho was implying, and gently pulled Chuck along with me. "You slintheads coming or what?"


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Play stupid games**

The next few weeks in the glade passed without event. But they also felt warmer, somehow. I could feel the walls I had built around myself fall, slowly, even though the walls separating us from the maze stayed put.

My friendship with Nick had changed too, in a way. Seeing him during work brightened up my mornings in a way no one else could. He was first-in-command, so he'd either be at Gatherings, or overseeing everyone's work, or helping out at sections which needed extra hands. But he'd always stop by during my break, and we'd joke about Minho's hair, or Newt's accent, or something equally ridiculous.

During dinner time, we'd sit with Minho, Newt, Alby, Ben, George and Chuck. Ben and George were both runners, and George was a good friend of Nick's. He was kind, with a dirty sense of humor- a combination that sat well with everyone. After months of keeping to myself, I was socializing. And now, I had friends.

Alby wasn't as stone-faced as I thought he was. Although he wasn't the kind to let loose either, he still was a friendly presence.

"How's it like, being the only girl?" he asked me once.

"Getting better."

I managed to discover the names of the boys who made me uncomfortable- Mark, Vince and Alex. I was usually on the receiving end of their leering gazes, and it made me shudder. They sat together with their friends at a different table, and I avoided it like the plague.

When the next greenie came up, he was a lanky boy called Wright. And Nick ordered a bonfire to be set up that night, so the gladers finally had a party two months after their last one. My arrival, along with Chuck's, hadn't warranted a celebration mainly because of how unusual we were, but that was all in the past now.

So I watched the flames of the fire lick the night air, not really knowing what to do. Chuck pressed himself against my side, trying to avoid getting trampled. Alby and Minho were loading up on the drink Gally was handing to them. Nick was talking to a couple of Slicers, but he'd turn to glance at me every once in a while. Jeff and Clint were huddled together in the dark, and I had a sneaking suspicion that their relationship had passed the 'friends' stage.

"Chuckie, why don't you go to bed?" I suggested. I didn't have a problem with him beside me; it just seemed like a good idea at the moment, especially considering how almost everyone around him was at least four years older than him and meandering around drunkenly.

"It's okay, I'll stay." He plopped on the ground and I did so too. We sat like that for a while until he realized he was better off asleep.

"Get your sleeping bag, Chuck. You can stay in my room tonight."

I dropped him off at the Homestead, and returned back to the party. Someone suddenly shoved me, and I turned indignantly to face them.

"Lighten up, shank!" Minho's red face made me want to laugh, but I held it in. "Do you want to dance?" His words came out jumbled, but he still smoothed his hair back and preened.

"I'm good, thanks for the offer Min."

"Aw shucks, at least grab a drink then." He patted his hair again, this time self-consciously.

"Your hair is flawless, Min. I'm just not in the mood for a dance."

"I'm flawless and I know it, shank." He grinned widely.

I rolled my eyes, then made my way to a log near the fire. Sitting with my back against it, I hoped it would shield me from everyone dancing near the bonfire. But soon enough, there was someone else sitting next to me. Newt.

"Sure ya don't fancy a drink?" He held out a cup, and I stared at it.

"Tell me what's in it."

"Can't. Gally made it, and he said the ingredients are secret. Good for getting hammered though."

After a quick deliberation, I grabbed it, and we clinked our cups together before downing it. The taste got to me immediately- it was bitter and sharp, but warmed my throat.

Congratulations." Newt's eyelids drooped, but he didn't falter. "You just lost your drinking virginity."

"Gee, thanks man."

The night passed on. I walked- more like dragged my feet- along with Newt, with our arms looped around each other's waists and our laughs louder than normal. We drank more, though I restricted the amount I consumed more than he did. Stumbling drunk into a fire was not the way I wanted to die.

Wright and Gally were circling each other, ready to wrestle. They had boys cheering around them, with the majority backing up Gally.

"Should we stop them?" I asked Newt, despite not being all that concerned. I could talk coherently, but it took effort. It was like trying not to fall asleep despite being dead tired.

"Nah. This is pretty much tradition. Happens every bonfire with Gally. These shanks will be fine in the morning." With that, he took another swig, then nudged me. "You want more?"

"I think I'm good. Don't let me stop you."

He gave me a crooked smile, sensing our time together for the night was coming to an end. "Did ya have a good time?"

"You're my man, Newt." I giggled with a voice that might as well have belonged to someone else, courtesy of the alcohol. Our faces were close, close enough to feel his warm breath on my face. He pressed his lips against my cheek and we stayed there for a while, with my arms around his neck and his around my waist.

"I'm sorry," I heard him whisper, "about the lake incident."

"Oh, Newt." Cupping his face, I pecked his nose. "What's past is past."

"So we're good?"

"Always."

His face lit up, and after an Eskimo kiss, he was gone.

I stumbled back to my original spot against the log, too tired to think about what had just happened. Nick was nowhere to be found in my line of vision, so I closed my eyes. It wasn't long before I felt myself fall asleep.

In hindsight, maybe I should have been more careful. Because things were about to get messy.


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. Win stupid prizes**

I woke up in pain.

My head pounded, and every part of me ached. And the ground underneath me was moving. I could feel pebbles and grass scratch me painfully.

Panic started to trickle in. I wasn't controlling my movement, something else was. My legs were in the air, and there was an unnatural pressure around my ankles.

And then the tall figure of a person cut into my line of vision and I wanted to scream, because he was dragging me by the legs.

"What are you doing?!" I tried to thrash around, but he wouldn't let go of my ankles. I moved wildly, trying to sit up. Pushing my hands against the ground and pulling my legs back forcefully, I managed to startle whoever was pulling me, and he let go.

Scrambling up to my feet sent spots into my vision and my head spinning. My heart was racing and threatening to burst out my chest, and the knowledge that there could be someone around to help him freaked me out more.

I could hear his feet shuffle across the ground, and I blinked fast, trying to steady myself. I couldn't identify his face with the shadows and my disoriented state. His hands were on my arms and he pushed me backwards, till I hit a tree.

That's when I realized I was in the woods. Alone with him.

"Let go!" I screamed as loudly as I could, hoping anyone could hear me. His breaths were heavy and fast, and his hand slapped itself on my mouth to keep me quiet.

"If you don't want to find yourself at the bottom of a lake, shut it." His whisper echoed in my head, and icy fear paralyzed me. I couldn't move or think, it was like my brain had shut everything down.

The hand on my mouth didn't move, but the other made its way up my t-shirt to rest on my stomach, his fingers pressing into my torso painfully. It made me whimper audibly, and he moved closer to me at the sound. It slowly crept downwards as the grip on my face loosened. I could feel every sensation, every movement, and it was excruciating. I wanted to get away from him as fast as I could.

I squirmed uncomfortable, and that's when it hit me that my hands were free. His were now tracing my curves, squeezing my hips and heading towards the belt of my jeans. He probably assumed that I was too scared of his threat to stop him.

The gears in my head began to spin again. He wasn't going to actually kill me- it would be digging his own grave. The other gladers would have him banished. After doing everything he wanted, he would threaten me to shut up and never talk about it. Killing me would be inconvenient.

His quiet moan as his hands unbuckled the belt made me want to throw up.

Red, hot anger fused with adrenaline and pushed itself into me, vanishing fear and helplessness. Blood pounded in my ears, urging me on. The full extent of what was happening dawned on me, helped by the disgust I felt everywhere his hands met my skin. The thoughts that formed in my head were lucid, and boy, they weren't good for him.

Nobody had the right to touch me the way they wanted to. Nobody could take advantage of me.

Especially not some boy who thought he was stronger than me.

He was done with my jeans buttons, and trying to push it down, when I ran my hands along his chest suggestively, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. And when he leaned back, thinking I actually wanted him, I slapped his face. Hard.

My palm hurt, but I knew his face did too. A heartbeat later, I slapped him again, feeling encouraged. Then taking advantage of his confused state, I pushed his chest with all my strength.

It didn't work. He swayed a little and groaned in pain, so I clawed his face with my nails immediately, dragging them down his cheeks.

My fingernails weren't very long, but they were still enough to hurt him. When he howled at the pain and lifted his face, I managed to knee him in the groin. He finally stumbled back and I pushed his chest again.

I knew the impact would knock him to the ground. But I also knew he wasn't going to stay there long.

I ran.

Propelling my legs forward, I swiped away tree branches and tried not to stumble over as I made my way back. He hadn't made it very far into the woods with me so I found myself back in the clearing soon, with the bonfire extinguished and gladers sprawled on the ground.

I knew he would be on my trail soon, if he wasn't already. I had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate to have me this time, and I wouldn't be able to outsmart or physically fight him again. Running to the nearest boy lying down, I tried to shake him awake.

"Get up! Get up!"

He didn't budge, just weakly swatted me away and snored. I tried waking someone else with the same result. And the icy fear that had settled in me back in the woods was making its way into my heart again, but I couldn't let it.

I ran to the Homestead in tears. I could hear his footsteps behind me; he was at the edge of the woods, and faster to recover than me. Running upstairs seemed a lot more difficult, like an iron weight was holding me down because I was dangerously close to having a massive panic attack. Somehow I managed to reach the second floor and fling myself into my room.

At first, I was exhilarated. I was safe!

And then the truth dawned on me. If what I had seen when trying to wake up the sleeping boys applied to everyone else, no one would know an assault had taken place. They had all gotten incredibly drunk at the party, and wouldn't wake up at their usual times.

He could easily come in and assault me in my own room, without anyone knowing.

The thought made me dizzy again. My legs felt weaker than ever.

And that's when I heard it. His footsteps echoed through the building as he stepped in and calmly climbed the stairs.

He didn't have to rush. I was alone, unprotected, and would be for several hours.

Sobbing, I collapsed heavily. My throat closed up and I knew I wouldn't be able to scream, but my loud sobs still rocked my body. Curling into a ball, I just closed my eyes and wept.

I felt hands on my shoulders and cried more, assuming he had finally reached me.

But someone wrapped me in a hug, lovingly.

And I knew it wasn't him.

Nick's wide eyes stared into mine. His arms were around me, his face right in front, a few inches away. Chuck knelt beside him, blinking rapidly. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and there were streaks of dawn in the sky, so their bewildered expressions were clear to me.

I froze, breathing heavily. Seeing them was a shock to my system, and their reactions suggested that they felt the same way while looking at my current state.

The events of last night filled my memory. Telling Chuck he could stay in my room, being unable to find Nick before passing out. But I had assumed he was drinking, like the other gladers. I didn't expect him to look so lucid, unlike me.

Nick opened his mouth, when he walked in unbothered, with purpose. But the sight of Nick and Chuck rooted him to the ground. He wasn't expecting them here.

For the first time, without spots in my vision or shadows, I saw him.

Vince.

I screeched. Nick and Chuck shot up to their feet, and I watched as Nick pushed him against the wall roughly.

"What did you do?" He barked in Vince's face, and Chuck stood behind him, unsure but looking ready to help.

"Nothing." Nick was blocking Vince from me, but from the way Nick tensed up even more, I was sure Vince was the terrified one now.

Nick looked back at me once more, and I knew he saw my belt hanging out off the loops, ready to fall off. My jeans were lower on my waist because of the undone buttons, but thankfully not exposing me. His face was a lot more scarier when he turned back, and I almost felt sorry for Vince.

Almost.

When Nick's fist connected with Vince's nose, it was incredibly satisfying.

Chuck yelped at the sound, and I was about to reach out, when his posture changed. He paused for a brief moment before bounding downstairs, I didn't know for what.

Slowly, shakily, I stood up. The knowledge that Nick had Vince cornered and Chuck was out of harm's way powered me with a strength I didn't know I had. It was the moment I learned how dangerous loss of hope was. How it could bring me to my knees.

"I hope they banish you, Vince." My voice was poisonous, even to me. But I didn't stutter.

"Oh, trust me Indy." Nick's voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth. "They will."

"Nick, he tried to… tried to…" I couldn't get the words out. He tried to rape me. And I only got away because he wasn't careful enough.

Nick punched Vince again, repeatedly. I listened to Vince's screams, not feeling a trickle of remorse. He kept going until he was sure Vince was unconscious, then dropped him onto the floor and kicked him in the gut.

Vince didn't move.

Nick massaged his hand as he stepped back. His knuckles were bruised and looked like they hurt. But he walked to me with his arms stretched and I nestled against him. His warmth made me feel more safe.

"I'm so sorry." Nick's fingers brushed my hair, and I felt small again. I wanted to sob, but I didn't have the energy. I was tired.

"I'm exhausted." My voice broke, and he hugged me tighter. "He dragged me into the woods, and…tried...to...touch...me. He… lifted my t-shirt. And...put his hand… on me."

"You don't have to explain everything right now, Indy." Nick hugged me tighter. "That guy has always been bad news. And I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you." He sounded like he was going to cry too, and we stood there for eternity, listening to our hearts beat.

We didn't even hear Chuck at first when he ran into the room, panting. It was only when Nick lifted his head from on top of mine to look at the sudden disturbance that I realized we weren't alone.

"Where were you?" Nick quizzed, a little surprised. Chuck pointed at the door, unable to get a word out because of how fast he was breathing.

He didn't have to say anything because Newt and Alby walked in, both looking like they'd woken up in a dumpster. Newt's hair was a mess, their faces were tired, and their eyes red.

"This little shank comes out of nowhere, and tries to wake us up." Alby said gruffly. "I can't even believe he did."

"He screamed in our shuckin' ears until we were awake, Alby." Newt retorted, his voice sleepy. "And he still hasn't told us what's going on."

Nick pointed at Vince slumped on the ground, and both Newt and Alby winced at the sight.

"Bloody hell!" Newt suddenly looked more awake than ever, and Alby rubbed his eyes incredulously. "What happened? The shank looks half-dead."

"He tried to assault Indy," Nick growled out. The attention of the room was on me, and I shrank into Nick's arms, trying to disappear.

"Well shuck." Alby glared at Vince, and Newt looked at me, sympathy mixed with anger.

"Bloody slinthead. We'll lock him up in the Slammer for now, and hold a Gathering in a few hours."

"Good that." Alby grabbed Vince by the collar, and Newt helped him hoist Vince up.

"I'll help them." Nick looked down into my eyes. "Why don't you try to go to sleep? Chuck will stay here with you, make sure you're okay. "

"Please wake me up for the Gathering," I said groggily.

"No problem. Won't attend it without you." I could already feel sleep pulling me in, and Nick walked me over to the cot, pushing a pillow under my head and a sheet over my body. Chuck's friendly face as he knelt on the floor next to the cot was the last thing I saw, and I knew the hellish night was over.

**This chapter was a little intense. I truly hope I haven't screwed it up. **

**Also, I got my first review, so thank you kind stranger!**


	6. Chapter 6

**6\. Help me, I'm stuck**

Hours later, Chuck and I made our way to the Kitchens.

We were the only ones there, other than Fry and some of his fellow cooks. The Glade was buzzing with life, and people were going to come in for breakfast soon, but I couldn't handle the thought of so many of them sitting close to me, so the two of us had made a beeline downstairs after I woke up.

Frypan gave me a smile as he loaded food on my plate. "How'd you sleep, Indy? Last night was pretty nuts."

I froze immediately. Was this some kind of joke to him? Was Frypan, someone who usually came across as sarcastic but well-intentioned, actually making fun of me?

I could feel the panic rush into me again, almost feel Vince's hands on my skin even though he was in the Slammer. It must have looked bad too because the humor in Fry's eyes suddenly got replaced by concern. "Indy, are you alright?"

"I-um," The words were lodged in my throat, but Chuck swooped in, "She's not doing that great right now, last night didn't go so well."

"Gally's drink really didn't work with you, huh?" Frypan asked me sympathetically.

It then occurred to me that the other gladers might not have been informed yet about the previous night's events. Exhaling, I let myself relax again, feeling a pressure lift off my chest.

"We'll eat upstairs, Fry. Thanks for the food." Chuck grabbed his plate in one hand, my arm in the other, and led me away from Frypan, who was scratching his head in confusion.

"I'm sorry," I said to Chuck worriedly once he shut the door to my room. He'd been subjected to me and my awful situation since the minute he'd woken up. I didn't know how he was tolerating me right now.

"Aww, shucks, you don't have to be." His face was still radiant, like it always was, and he bounced over to my bed. As we ate, he chatted about his work as a Slopper, and it filled the quietness of the room.

Chuck was a fast talker, and he rarely paused for breath, so I was thankfully spared from small talk. I nodded at him periodically, but my mind was enveloped in recollections of the previous night, and even breakfast seemed like a chore, more than anything. Food that I used to gobble down sat on my plate, and I ended up giving the curly haired boy across me some of it.

He took our plates downstairs while I found myself in a dilemma. I had to go shower and brush my teeth, but I couldn't bring myself to go downstairs again.

"Don't worry about it!" Chuck beamed when I tried to explain how I felt. "I'll wait outside, so you don't feel alone."

"Thank you." I walked out of the room before he could see the tears welling up in my eyes.

Having someone guard the door of the shower room was actually unnecessary, because the Builders had constructed me a seperate one a week after my arrival. It had become evident on my first day that my gender was going to cause issues, so Gally, as Keeper of Builders, was appointed for the project. My door even had a lock, so I didn't need to worry about someone barging in.

Still. Chuck's presence as he sat guard on the grass right outside made me feel slightly more safe. I didn't know when everyone was going to find out what happened, and it was killing me inside with humiliation. I wondered how they'd react, and how long it would take before they forgot.

After I was done, Chuck and I went on a walk to the lake, with me carrying my dirty clothes and him swinging a bucket which had the soap and scrub. As we walked through the woods, I tried to block out the paranoia I felt, assuring myself that I wasn't alone this time. Even though he acted like everything was peachy, I could tell Chuck was on the lookout from the way he glanced all around us occasionally while he talked about the time he pranked Gally.

Vince had officially ruined my life- he'd taken away my sense of security and independence. His face popped in my mind, and I clenched my fists, anger and humiliation all crashing on me like waves.

"You look angry, Indy," Chuck panted, trying to keep up with my long strides as I huffed and walked faster. "Is it something I said?"

And just like that, for a second, I forgot about Vince.

"It's not you Chuckie." I shot him a weak smile, and he got the message. But he also stayed quiet, and it made me uneasy, because the noise in my head just got louder and louder.

After a few agonizing minutes, we reached the lake, and got to work. Chuck filled the bucket with water, and I knelt down to scrub my jeans clean, hoping to take my mind off things.

Chuck got in knee deep and splashed around in the lake. And I stared down at the jeans and tshirt I had worn when Vince touched me, and I realized I could never wear them again. They were tainted by my memory of his attack.

All I wanted to do was burn them.

Chuck stopped playing and sat by me, sensing something was wrong since I was frozen again.

"I can't wear these anymore," I said shakily, hoping he'd understand and not ask further questions.

He nodded.

Silently scooping everything up, we walked back into the glade.

**This is a really short chapter, but I think it's important because it shows how Indy's coping with the trauma of the incident. Sexual assault is no joke, and I hope what I've written so far doesn't trivialize what survivors go through.**

**I would also like to thank the kind spirit who left a review again! Your words help me keep going, especially since this is my very first fanfic ever! I can't even believe someone's actually reading this haha :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**7\. Boys don't need toys**

The door to the council room swung open, and I gulped.

"C'mon in, shank." Newt's friendly face peered at me, and with a gentle push on my back from Nick, I walked in.

Ten keepers. Three leaders. Three regular gladers, out of which one was me. The other two were Mark and Alex.

And one accused. Vince.

He sat facing a semicircle of Keepers and Leaders, plus Mark, Alex and I.

Mark and Alex had demanded to be let into the meeting, despite the fact their Keeper, Winston, was already attending. They wanted to know why their best friend had been thrown beaten and bruised, into the Slammer, for no reason.

Nick had initially been furious. But when I'd heard about them wanting to attend, I requested him to allow it without telling him exactly why. Even though they hadn't made direct advances on me, they still stared and commented inappropriately and I was done with that sort of abuse. I needed to confront them.

With Nick on my left and Newt on my right, it was comforting, but I still felt incredibly exposed as I could feel the curious glances from the Keepers, wondering why I was joining them. Minho's eyes were especially penetrating, and I knew he felt completely out of the loop and in the dark, worsened by the fact that the rest of his closest friends knew. Even Chuck did.

They were about to find out about everything, and it made me nauseous. I didn't want them to.

I felt my hands shake as Vince glared at me. His face was a mess, all purple and black and bloody. But not bad enough to stay unconscious.

Nick glared back at him, and I squeezed his hand, not wanting a brawl to start again. Thankfully, Newt got up and stood behind Vince to address the council.

"You shanks are probably wonderin' why Vince here looks like a piece of klunk."

"Hear, hear."

"Shut your bloody trap, Mark, you're not even supposed to be here in the first place. Now, as I was saying, Vince here looks like shucking sunshine because Nick beat him up in the wee hours of the mornin'. "

There was a collective gasp around the room. Minho's head whipped around to look at Nick, his mouth on the floor. Mark and Alex shot daggers our way. If looks could kill, well…

I cringed involuntarily. The worst was yet to come. And Nick's jaw was clenched tightly as he looked around, daring anyone to confront him.

"If I don't have your bloody attention, I can't finish," Newt snapped, and there was a strange silence. "Alright, so Vince here thought it would be fun to drag Indira into the woods in the middle of the night and assault her. "

Cue another gasp, this time much louder. I was ready to crawl into a hole but Newt carried on, ignoring everyone.

"Fortunately, she got away before he could, but he followed her to her room, where he had the nastiest surprise. Nick was in the room too, and the bugger got beaten up. And now, here we are."

"How do you know that for sure?" Alex called out. He shot to his feet, almost knocking his chair to the ground, before pointing at me. "How do you know she's not making things up?"

Furious, I stood up too. If he thought he could paint my truma into a lie, he had another thing coming. "You think I'd lie? You think I want this attention on me? The audacity of you to accuse me of trying to destroy someone's life when all you've ever done is make me feel insecure-"

"Oh, do I?" He sneered, and I clenched my fists, my heartbeat racing. "You gonna accuse me of assault too, huh?"

"Maybe I should!" I yelled. "Because since the day I got here, you haven't been able to stop looking at me like I'm your prey. You wouldn't know decency if it slapped you in the face, pervert!"

"Don't flatter yourself!" He roared. "You're not as hot as you think, you lying bitch!"

"Alex, if you don't stop talking, I'll make sure you're in the Slammer for a week!" Alby's sharp voice cut through the middle of our argument. We quieted down, but the blood was pounding in my ears, and I was too aggravated to take my seat.

Newt walked back, his eyes fixed on me. He pushed me down by the shoulders and I slumped in my chair as he sat down too.

"Give Vince a chance to talk," Gally spoke for the first time. Tone eerily calm, he continued, "As his Keeper, I want to hear from him."

"I hate to say it, but I agree," Zart's quiet voice felt like a knife in my heart, but I tried to shake off the hurt.

Alby cleared his throat. "That's fair. We should listen to Vince's side of events. Don't give me that look Nick, it's only right that we hear what both Indira and him have to say."

"Good that." Newt plucked a notepad and pen he'd put on the floor earlier next to his chair, and pointed at Vince. "Start talking, shank."

My heart was about to explode out of my chest. If Vince said his side of the events convincingly enough, I could be falsely painted as someone with a vendetta against him for no reason.

His voice cut through my thoughts. "I was at the party, having a good time. The bonfire dies, everyone's asleep, and then she comes along, trying to get me to go with her for a good time."

_Lies._

"I refuse at first, you know, 'cause she's Nick's property."

_I am no one's property._

"But she insists, so we sneak off into the woods. And she unbuttons my shirt and runs her hands on me and I'm cool with that. But then, out of nowhere, she slaps me, and pushes me down, hard."

_Oh god, oh god._

"And I'm confused and hurt. I don't know what I did wrong. I obviously want to ask her what just happened, so I go to her room, and she's on the floor, with Nick's arms around her. And he thinks I made a move on her, so he beats the klunk out of me, and I wake up in the Slammer, with my face bloody."

Pin drop silence. No one knew what to believe.

Except Vince's friends, who had shit-eating grins on their face.

"Indira?" Alby looked at me pointedly.

I took in a shaky breath, already feeling defeated.

"I passed out after a couple of drinks with Newt. I wasn't as drunk as everyone else though, because I was being really careful.

When I woke up, Vince was dragging me across the ground, which obviously freaked me out. He was pulling me by the ankles into the woods, and I managed to slip away at first. But I was scared and weak, so he pinned me against a tree anyway."

My throat closed up. The next part was the worst, and I had to choke out my words. "He threatened to drown me in the lake if I didn't comply."

The room was suddenly a lot colder. Minho looked like he couldn't believe what was happening, and Newt reeled like he'd been punched. Nick was a statue, and Frypan and Winston looked at me sympathetically.

"Go on," Alby pressed. "What did he do to you?"

"He lifted my shirt, and put his hands on me. But when he started unbuttoning my jeans, I realized he wasn't holding my hands down."

Blinding shadows. Feel of unfamiliar skin. Sting of my palm. Freedom of space.

All the emotions I felt that night threatened to overwhelm me again, mixed with fury against people who doubted me.

Reassurance. I needed it.

Newt tapped my knee. "And?"

Trying to block out the attention, I closed my eyes and continued. "He was standing too close, and I needed him to get away. So I ran my hands along his chest and unbuttoned his collar to give him the wrong idea."

Vince snorted, and I screwed my eyes shut even more. "He thought I was warming up to him, and that distracted him enough to pull his face away. I slapped him twice, scratched him, and pushed him down."

I could almost feel his skin under my fingernails again.

"I ran back to Homestead. He was on my trail. Everyone was dead asleep, and I thought he was going to rape me. But thankfully-" I opened my eyes again to look at Nick "-Nick saved me."

Silence. Nick and I didn't break eye contact, and it felt like nothing mattered anymore.

But it did.

"I believe you, Indira." I whipped my head to look at Minho, who was sitting upright, his face tensed. "I think Vince should be Banished."

The room exploded into chaos. Mark and Alex were yelling, the Keepers were demanding to ask Vince more questions, and Newt looked like he was going to lose his mind.

"Everyone, calm down!" Alby yelled. In the midst of the confusion, I caught Minho's eye and mouthed, _thank you. _

He sent me a small smile, and it was soothing. I didn't know how much I needed it.

**An hour and a half later**

Chuck and I sat on the grass, a little away from the Homestead. After the Keepers were done thoroughly interrogating me, I had asked to leave. Things were starting to get too intense for me, and I needed open space.

"What do you think they'll do to him?" Chuck asked brightly. It was unnerving, especially since he had been questioned by the council members too so that Nick could confirm what happened in our room.

"Don't know, Chuckie." I trained my eyes on the walls, trying to relax. "If the Keepers believe me, they'll probably Banish him."

"Why wouldn't they believe you?" His innocent question made me want to cry.

"Because Vince has people rooting for him, who'll do anything to prove me wrong." It was the bleak truth.

We sat there until the council door opened, and Alby called out. "Indira, come inside please."

The kinda-peaceful head space I had managed to create for myself evaporated. It took me a lot of strength to back up on my feet and walk back.

"So," Alby started. "The Keepers have voted, and the final decision is Banishment for Vince."

Oh my god.

They believed me. I was free.

"Vince will be locked in the Slammer, and his banishment is set for tonight. Indira, Nick told me that you insisted Mark and Alex attend this Gathering. I want to know what you have to say."

This was my chance. "Mark and Alex are Vince's friends. They haven't physically attacked me like he did, but they stare inappropriately and comment among themselves. That needs to stop. Anyone who thinks that they can treat me the way they want, just because I am a girl, should know that I am not a toy, or anyone's property."

I emphasized my last sentence, and glared around the room. Nick spoke up, "We have laws here. One of them explicitly states to never hurt another glader. Anyone caught harassing Indira or touching her intimately without her consent will be effectively breaking this law, and punished. That's all for today. Meeting adjourned."

"But-"

"I didn't know you wanted to give Vince company, Mark. Walk away, or I'll fling you into the Maze myself."

Nick looked like he was at his breaking point, and Mark, sensing the situation wasn't in his favor, quieted down and walked out, followed by a meek Alex.

I sensed that they had been roughed up in a way too. Their best friend was going to be sent into the Maze. And everyone knew no one survived a night there.

Vince was led away by Alby and Winston. He actually looked pretty pathetic, and I felt vindicated.

"Sorry to hear about what happened, Indy. Take the day off." Zart was apologetic as he walked away, and I nodded in gratitude.

"Feel better now?" Frypan patted my shoulder, which earned him a weak smile. "No wonder you looked so freaked out when I asked you how you felt this morning."

"I'm okay Fry. Thanks for asking."

"Get some rest."

The room was nearly empty now. Nick wrapped an arm around me, and I leaned into him. For a split second, Newt's face appeared pained. Then it was back to his usual expression, and I wondered if I had imagined it.

"You lot should get some rest, like Frypan said. I'll talk to you later Indy, 'kay?"

"Sure, Newt. We need to talk." The memory of his warm breath on mine and lips on my face floated into my mind, and I tried to erase it before I blushed.

"Same here." Minho was back to his playful demeanor. "We'll talk later when you're doing better, Bolt."

"Thanks Min, you're the best."

"Don't flatter him," Newt warned, "he's too snobby for his own good."

"Shut your trap, slinthead." Minho grabbed his head to give him a noogie.

"Stay away, shank, or I'll bust your knees." When Minho didn't budge, Newt came to the understanding that his threats weren't going to work, so he scampered out immediately with Minho on his trail.

Nick and I went back upstairs quietly. As he sat on the cot, I asked, "How much did you have to drink last night? You were incredibly sober when you woke up."

He smiled grimly. "Usually, I pass out like the rest of these shanks. But I didn't really drink at the party because I just wanted to leave."

"Why?" I felt like I knew the answer.

"I don't know. I guess I just needed a good company, but you and Newt were… occupied."

My face heated up so badly, Frypan could have used it as a stove. "We aren't like that."

"It doesn't matter even if you are. It's your decision. I'm just happy you're my friend."

I looked at the floor, not knowing what to say. He spoke up again.

"Vince said you're my property. But I want you to know that I've never thought of you like that. You are your own person, Indy. And I'd never reduce you to something else."

"It felt really degrading," I whispered. No one here had a clue what it was like to be objectified.

"I understand." He rose up and hugged me, and for the first time in a while, I was at peace.

**Man, this one is long. I hope it's not too boring or over-emotional. Next chapter, we'll have a change of tone, so I'm glad I was able to wrap things up and give Indy the justice she deserves.**

**Two new wonderful people left me some amazing reviews, Skye** **and NeverBeforeOrAgain!** **Thank you for making me smile :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**8\. Preparation is key**

"Atta girl, Bolt!" Minho cheered as I came to a halt near him. "One more, and we'll wrap it up!"

"Okay," I said between heavy breaths, not willing to give up even though my feet were screaming.

"I'm kidding Bolt, we're done for today. Man, you're one determined shank."

I gave him a weary thumbs up. Running laps around the glade was a peace of cake for Min, but not so much for me.

After Vince's banishment, I resolved to put my mind to something productive, something like an extracurricular activity. And then I had the perfect idea- improving my running skills.

I knew I had a good stamina because I could work for several hours without getting too tired. But I was horrible when it came to speed. So I turned to the best person for help- Minho, Keeper of the Runners, self-proclaimed king of the maze.

I was worried I'd really have to beg for his help, but Minho was more than happy (and a little flattered) that I came to him. He probably felt sympathetic after my ordeal, but I was determined to put the incident behind me and not let it control my life any longer.

So we'd wake up two hours earlier before everyone else, and Minho would make me warm up first. Then he'd time me as I ran, so that we could use it as a flag to mark any improvements. His presence was encouraging and safe, and I knew I needed him because I wouldn't be able to take myself seriously otherwise.

"This won't be permanent Min," I said as we walked to the Kitchens for breakfast. "Pretty soon, I'll just time myself, and you won't have to wake up so early anymore. I just feel like I need moral support right now."

Ever since Vince's banishment, which had taken place a week ago, I felt ostracized, like the gladers other than my friends were nervous to be around me. It stung, because I had just started to branch out when things went wrong, and now I was back at square one.

"Aw shucks, Indy, it's really no big deal." Minho reached out to ruffle my hair, but I ducked away with a glare.

He was around Newt's height, maybe a little taller, but his muscled arms gave him the appearance of someone much bigger. Despite all of it though, he was still sort of a teddy bear.

An incredibly sassy teddy bear.

I settled down at my usual seat between Chuck and Nick, and watched Wright sit awkwardly at another table. He was the current greenbean. "Which section is he working in?"

"Builders," Nick replied, stuffing his face with a waffle. "Gally got lucky with a replacement."

"Right," I looked away quickly before Gally and I made eye contact.

"How was your run?" Chuck spoke through a mouthful of food.

"It was nice. Minho bossed me around a lot though."

"Shank, by the time we're done, you'll be good enough to become a Runner." Minho swiped away an apple slice on my plate.

"Good to know," Newt set his plate down next to Minho, "but she won't actually be in the maze mate, so try somewhere else."

"I'm not as brave as you Min," I said honestly. The maze gave me the creeps.

"Indy, everything that happened last week is proof that you're much stronger and braver than you think." The words that came out of Minho's mouth sounded so genuine that for a minute, I wanted to cry. "You defended yourself with your wits, and you fought your ground. Character traits of a good runner. Stop glaring at me Newt, it was just a suggestion."

"Thank you for saying that, Min," I looked down at my lap so I could blink away my tears.

"I could be a good runner too, ya know," Chuck piped up.

"You?" Minho snorted. "The only time I've seen you run is when you tripped Gally."

"Only reason Chuck here is still breathing is cause Gally has a soft spot for him, the big ol' shank." Newt shook his head, like he couldn't believe it.

"You're a big old softie too, Newt," I couldn't help but tease him. We shared a smile, and every time I met his eyes, all I could think about were his arms around me.

I didn't have strong romantic feelings for him, I was sure of that. He was a good friend, a good support. But the memory of us drunk was a lot more defining than any other ones, and it crept into my thoughts whenever we were together.

We had talked about that unexpected interaction at the bonfire, in his room, a day after the council meeting. He had asked me hesitantly if I remembered how close we had gotten that night, and I said I did.

"I am sorry," he looked me in the eye seriously, "if I overstepped any boundaries."

"That's one thing you don't really need to worry about. I would have kneed you in the gut otherwise."

He smiled crookedly, looking a lot more relaxed. It was incredibly boyish and adorable. "Thank you for saying that."

"You're my man, Newt."

"I don't regret what happened."

"What makes you think I do?" With that, I was pulled into his arms again, and we had fallen onto his bed laughing. And his blonde hair shone in the sunshine streaming in through the window, and his face was angelic, happy. I'd never seen him like that before. I don't think anyone else in the Glade had either.

Once we were done cackling, he turned to me, and our faces were close again, which let him stroke my cheek. And his brown eyes had so much depth, different from everything else. So incredibly trustworthy.

"I have to go," I whispered regretfully, several heartbeats later. Zart wouldn't appreciate me being gone for so long.

"Zart the fart, always ruining the fun." He booped my nose. "Go ahead, I'll catch up later."

And that was it. He closed his eyes, and I got up slowly, trying not to disturb the tranquility in the room. He was asleep when I closed the door, sleeping soundly like he hadn't slept in a while.

After that, we hadn't really been alone again. But it didn't matter because we saw each other every day.

The weeks flew by with the addition of running in my schedule. Sometimes it would be difficult to get out of bed.

But I pushed forward anyway. Despite the fact that Minho looked crestfallen some evenings because he felt there was no way out of the maze, a nagging feeling inside me said that we'd be out of here, one way or the other, sooner or later. This was simply the calm before the storm.

And I'd have to be ready when it was time.


	9. Chapter 9

**9\. You can't wake up, ever**

Minho ran in effortlessly through the doors, a human gazelle. Like clockwork, the other Runners entered the Glade too, their face glistening with sweat.

Three greenies later, I had improved my own speed tremendously. Those three months, I woke up early and ran alone, testing my own boundaries and letting Minho go back to his regular schedule. So the envy that used to light up in me had died, and I gazed at the Maze, wondering if I'd ever get to see what it was like.

"Don't even think about it," Newt said beside me. Somehow, he always seemed to catch up on what was going on in my head.

"I wasn't thinking of anything, shank." I glared, but it didn't faze him one bit. A shadow of sadness seemed to pass over his face, and I softened immediately. "What is it?"

"Promise me you won't lose your head and run off into the shuckin' maze." His tone was stern, and it startled me in a way.

The defensiveness melted away and I leaned into him, resting against his chest, my arms looping around him. A part of me hoped he'd take that as an answer.

He did. His tense body relaxed, and he returned the embrace.

I was letting my eyes droop when he quietly muttered, "That's strange."

"What is?" I looked back at where I'd seen Minho last.

He wasn't walking towards us like he usually did to make small talk. He was walking briskly to the Map Room.

"Come on." I stepped away from Newt and we sprinted towards Minho, just as he shut the door.

"Oi, we're coming in." Newt pushed it open and we walked in, then stopped.

And for the first time, I witnessed Minho break into tears.

"Shuck."

Newt and I were frozen in our spots.

This wasn't normal. Minho wasn't the type to cry in front of other people. Minho wasn't the kind of person to _cry._

But there he was sobbing quietly, fat tears leaking out of his eyes, trailing down his face and meeting at the chin. Plopping down in a nearby chair, he buried his face in his hands, but the shaking that had suddenly enveloped his body didn't stop.

"Oh, Min." I quickly walked to him, wrapping my arms around him, pressing my head against his. Newt locked the door of the room, ignoring the other Runners and pulled up another chair facing Minho, taking a seat.

"You guys need to leave," Minho managed to say.

"And leave you alone like this? You must be out of your bloody mind, shank."

"Leave, Newt." Minho looked up from his hands, and glowered. Newt didn't back down, just keeping his eyes trained on his friend.

I let go of Min and knelt onto the ground next to him. "Maybe try talking to us?"

"Talking about what?" I could suddenly feel the intensity of his stare, piercing holes into my head. "We're never getting out of this prison. Every day, we run like lab rats, and we hit dead ends. We're doomed, shank, we're doomed!"

Newt opened his mouth and paused. Minho's body was trembling, and he had to push the last few words out before he threw his head back and clamped fingers over his mouth to quiet down.

I leaned back, stunned and frightened. This was new territory. Minho always maintained some level of composure, and looking at him now at his most vulnerable was a proper shock.

"You guys need to leave," came a soft voice. "Before I lose my mind. Just leave me alone, please."

Newt and I exchanged looks, and nodded. I patted Minho's arm and we walked outside silently.

The Runners watched us impatiently. Ben started to speak but Newt cut in.

"Come to dinner with us. Minho needs a moment alone. _Now_, Ben."

**An hour and a half later**

Newt came into my room, tense, interrupting my conversation with Nick.

"Alright, Newt?" Nick rubbed the back of his head, not sure what to say. I had filled him in on the details, and he had sat there quietly absorbing them.

From my position on the floor against the wall, I could see the clench in Newt's jaw, his body rigid. Nick sat on the bed helplessly, not knowing what to say.

"Minho's right," Newt said. "We're never getting out of this. We're stuck."

"We don't know that." My voice was small, but I forced out the words anyway.

"He's been running the maze for more than a _year._ You've been here for a little more than four months, Indy. He's the fastest among all of us, and one of the smartest. If there was a way out, he'd have found it." He was fired up, in a way I'd never seen before.

"Newt, I think you need to sit down," Nick said, getting up and walking towards his friend. But Newt only bristled more. He was clenching his fists, and I couldn't help but shrink a little. The little voice in my head was saying, _things are going to get ugly._

"Everyday I wake up in this shuckin' hell hole, thinking maybe today, something will change. But it hasn't." Pause. Deep breath. " Every_day_ we wake up, do our jobs, have dinner and go to sleep. And that's it. It's a circle. Nick, you _know_. Indy's arrival was the _only_ thing that made a significant difference here."

"Newt," Nick grabbed his shoulders, "you can't think like this, it will kill you." Desperation was painting his voice, but he contained it.

"What if we're not meant to get out?"

The words slipped out of my mouth so fast, I couldn't take them back. They hung between us, heavy.

"What do you mean?" Newt pushed off Nick's hands and furrowed his eyebrows. There was something animal in his eyes.

And I wanted to provoke him. See how long he'd last before he broke.

"What if they're trying to keep us from the outside world? What if that's why we've been trapped in a maze that's almost impossible to solve, and sheltered by monsters designed to keep us in? What if that's why they keep sending us our basic necessities like the animals, the clothes?" I was rambling, but I couldn't stop. I had to get the words out somehow. It was necessary.

"That makes no sense," Nick began, but Newt put up a hand to stop him. "Nick, what if she's right? What if they want us to spend the rest of our lives here? Is that why they try to kill us every time we almost escape? Is it them sending us a message? What if they're signs?" He wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes almost crazed now.

"You're both out of your minds! If you can come up with a reason for all that, then surely you can explain to me why they're sending people one at a time, and why they've only sent us one girl so far. What happened to the female population, huh?"

Nick was yelling, trying to get us to break out of whatever trance we were in. But I couldn't hear him.

My heart was pounding in my chest. Deep down, I knew Nick was right. But my mind had shut itself down in panic. It was like I had an insect in my head, eating a hole into my brain.

_Minho has never found the way out. Maybe there is no way out. Maybe the world outside is terrible. _

"Both of you," Nick raged, "are losing it. Don't you see? They're playing with your heads. Don't let them get to you!" He stomped his feet, shook Newt so hard I winced.

_They're in your head, you're their toy._

_What if we're right? What if we're supposed to stay here?_

"What do you mean?" Newt cried out. He was panting, his voice breaking. "What do you mean they're playing with our heads?"

"Of COURSE they are!" Nick thundered. "If they can wipe our memories, then clearly, they have some amount of control over our brains. Stop acting like you didn't know this already, and wake up! Wake UP!"

He was pleading, screaming. It was messed up. He wasn't sweet, beautiful Nick; he was dangerous. He was the living definition of desperation.

I was disgusted. Wasn't he the leader? Why wasn't he acting like one?

"You're the crazy one! You refuse to look at the facts! Nick, this our reality! This is our home!"

"Shut up Indy! Shut up! Newt, listen to me, listen to me!"

Newt dropped to his knees, grabbed at his own hair. Looking at him made me want to do the same. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look anymore.

There were insects crawling on my skin, and it itched. I scratched and scratched at my arms, but nothing happened. The irritation didn't stop. I was exposed, vulnerable. On the floor.

So much noise. Vince moaning, Alex raging, Nick yelling, Minho crying.

They were crawling all over me.

I scratched harder, my fingernails digging into my skin. I had to get it off, whatever suit I was in.

A sharp sound came out of nowhere, and my eyes snapped open to see Nick slapping Newt across the face. "Snap out of it! I SAID, snap out of it! Both of you!"

I screamed. Newt joined me. Nick punched the wall, begging us to stop as footsteps thundered on the stairs.

Someone else yelled. But I was too far away by then.


End file.
